Haakig and the Collector
by Auroness
Summary: Haakig was a Nord mercenary during Skyrim's civil war, who stumbled upon a terrible threat to all of Nirn. At first, he simply accepted a job, but as he took on new assignments for the Collector, a subtle and dangerous plot began to emerge. Even with warnings from an unknown source, would he be able to stop the foul plot?
1. Chapter 1 - A Night's Vision

**Prologue**

What follows is the tale of Haakig, as told to me some months after the incident of the Failed Warp. He was a simple Nord mercenary during Skyrim's civil war, but was caught up in events that affected all of Nirn. While he never wanted to be remembered for his part in the events, I sought him out to learn his side of the story, and preserve it for future Psijic Order historians.

**Chapter 1 – A Night's Vision**

It had been a long day of cutting trees and dragging them back to the pile. I knew I would have to fetch the horses and harness them to the drag chains so I could move all of the trees to the mill. There was enough lumber there to last a couple of months at the mill. I had thought that maybe my muscles would forgive me by time the lumber from those trees was cut and sold. But for that night, I was tired, and my makeshift bed on the ground was all I wanted. Cutting timber may not have paid as well as other jobs I had done, but the work was vital to the survival of a small town.

I had barely closed my eyes, when I heard an odd sound, of wind, stone, and bones. I struggled against sleep to open my eyes, and when I did, I was not laying down. I was standing, but not in my camp. It was dark, far darker than the night should be, but I could still see the walls of a cavern. Looking up I could see a sky full of stars. But I was underground, or was I? In the walls around me were gaps, filled with bodies of the dead, the ancient dead. Then it wasn't a crypt. It was a tower built of well fitted stones. I could see the land spread out before me, lit by the flickering lights of the aurora, and there were walls looming over me as I stood on a balcony.

I tried to focus on the walls as they changed, my mind refusing to believe what I saw. The walls were rough stone, now they were finely smoothed marble. The wind blew, but it was quiet. Tall, elegant people walked past me, corpses stared back at me. I closed my eyes, but nothing changed. I could still see the stars and the dead bodies. I tried to focus on the wall, one spot, staring at it and trying to understand.

An ancient Altmer walked into view. He was bent over and dragging one leg as he moved, yet walking on his own power without aid of a staff. His skin was shriveled and pulled tight across his skeletal face and hands. I would almost call him a Draugr, but the spark in his eye was full of life and energy. A ghostly apparition, with form, and yet so unsubstantial, I could see the stars through him. His robe was old, but not ragged, showing glimmers of well worked golden embroidery on fine black velvet, fitted in a fashion popular many centuries past.

He greeted me with a rich, resonant voice, the words coming with the tone one who had lived long in Cyrodil and the Imperial City.

Waving one hand across his robes, almost dismissively, "_Greetings, Haakig. I see that you look at me and see only my body as it is now, lying in some forgotten tomb. Once I was important, and known throughout the Empire. Champions and Guild-masters sought out my wisdom. But as any mortal, I made rash decisions and took actions that led to the state you see me in now. I am dead, and yet alive. I am bound to this world and cannot pass on, and I have accepted this fate._"

He turned and gestured to the tower behind me, "_I am bound to the tower you would call Reachwind Eyrie, and yet I still maintain great interest in what happens in the mundane world. To make the endless days pass for me, I have called upon you to ask a small favour._"

A favor? Why would he summon me to ask for a favor? What had I done to gain his attention? Why me? In an instant, swift visions came to me, hitting me like shards of ice in a storm. All of the crypts I had explored, the times I had emptied urns, and looted a long dead skeletons. Even as I questioned myself, I knew the answer. The dead I had looted may have been forgotten by men and mer, but not by the dead themselves.

His deep voice continued on, and I was glad he couldn't see my thoughts, "_All I ask is for you to bring a few small items to me that so I may see them with my own eyes. Some of them are historically important, but are not really valuable to any one. Others are very mundane, but tied into deeper stories involving blackmail, adultery, or corruption of very influential people. In return I will tell you such tales as I know of forgotten history, and tell you of lost treasures to compensate you for your time_."

He looked at me, those nonliving eyes burrowing deep inside of me. Somehow, I knew I could have shut my eyes and gone back to sleep. This would all be a dream, forgotten as soon as I woke, no matter how odd it seemed then. In the morning, it would all be a faint memory, forgotten by the time the morning dew was gone. But the memories of the tombs I looted, burial sites I disturbed, and the bodies of the men I killed and left to rot would never leave me. He offered me salvation. In my own mind, without a spoken word or even a nod, I accept his offer.

He smiled softly at me, and turned his head with a brief nod of acceptance. The eyes which burned with life beyond the grave, cease to stare into my very spirit, and I felt a sense of relief. He knew my choice, before I knew it myself. He acted as if he was accustomed to men paying attention to him, one used to giving lectures and having people pay attention.

He spoke to me again, his hands folded in front of him, teaching me a lesson of deceit and betrayal. "_One such case is the Frost River Brewery. Not many years ago, a pair of Nord brothers, Borvir and Rundi, sought to start a brewery in Winterhold, and sell their special brew across Skyrim. They faced many problems and were ultimately unsuccessful. Blame for the problems were placed on a competitor, who held exceptional power and influence. Gold and time was short for the brothers, so they joined the College of Winterhold, trying to re-establish themselves and deal with the problems. In the college they met two others, a Redguard woman named Yisra, and a Khajiit of unknown gender named Ilas-Tei. No one will ever know for certain what they planned, but it was clearly not something the College would approve of, and they were forced to work outside College grounds. To prepare for their part in the plan, each of the four had a special spell, item or potion to work on. They would each go to a remote location and return to the College a day or two later. This went on for some time, each of them learning and growing more skilled. One day, the four of them set out, but never returned. Their mentor was concerned, but never sought out any answers. All I ask is a token from each of the missing students. The brothers both carried daggers, the Khajiit wore a ring, and the woman had a necklace. Should you find anything else of value, feel free to take it as a bonus, and if you should determine how they died, and who was responsible, it would be wise for you to remember it, in the event you face a similar situation."_

As he finished speaking, he started to fade out, and the world around me turned into a vague sort of map. It was Skyrim, rivers and lakes were clearly marked, the main cities were shown, and four other locations stood out, the images just as vibrant as if I was standing there. One spot was halfway between Winterhold and Azura's shrine, a small shrine in the blowing snow. The second was a collapsed tomb I knew to be Journeyman's nook. The third was on the main coastline, near to Dawnstar. The fourth one was north of a tomb, across the sea from Winterhold's college. As these four marks began to fade, a fifth mark appeared, a Dwemer Tower, the very one I stood in now, surrounded by a fair meadow of green grasses on the top of a mountain near Markarth.

Then the world darkened, and I feel myself falling into a deep sleep, but a vague whisper caught my ear, just before everything went black, "_Bring the items to the balcony of this tower, and we shall speak again_"


	2. Chapter 2 - Missing Students

**Chapter 2 – Missing Students**

After I finished dragging the logs back to the mill, I told Temba, the mill owner, I was going to have to leave. I had brought in enough trees to last a month, maybe more, so she should be all right while I was gone. She just put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "_I suppose I may as well start looking for a new wood cutter then, hadn't I?_"

I grinned at her and admitted it, I wouldn't be coming back. As I went back to the inn to gather my things, I wished I could come back, but I've never been able to settle down for long. The collector was an odd employer, and getting a job by a dream was new, but it gave me a reason to travel again. As much as I may complain at times, being on the road, sleeping under the stars, and delving deep into ancient ruins is my life. I couldn't imagine anything else.

It didn't take me long to reach Riften, and from there I took a carriage to Dawnstar, even if it cost twice the normal amount, because there was not a return carriage. I enjoyed the ride, because I knew I would be doing quite a bit of foot travel over the next week or two. The trip was a long one, so I curled up and took a nap. It might seem a hard way to sleep, but I had slept in worst places. By the time we arrived in Dawnstar, I was well rested and ready to go.

The quickest mark on the map to locate was the one halfway to Winterhold, right on the coast. It was actually an easy one to find, despite the coast being much longer walk than it seemed on the map. Up ahead I had spotted several small fires, but no tents. I didn't see any signs of mages fighting either, no fireballs or the like. I still came up carefully on the site, watching for trouble, but other than a few sleeping horkers, there wasn't any problems. Several patches of brush and grass were still burning, which was odd since they didn't burn for long normally. The flames were in a circular pattern, and it took me a moment to realize the burning lump in the middle of the circle was a body. I carefully examined the body and found a necklace. This was definitely Yisra then. Nearby, I found a spell tome for something called Flame Cloak. Looking around, I was certainly not going to read the spell myself. The collector wanted the necklace, and I could sell the tome. I knew I could find a spell caster in Winterhold who would be interested.

The next closest marker was to the north of the college. I had heard of another shrine to Talos that was much closer, and thought it might be a good idea to check it out first. Not that I doubted a vision given by a nightmare, but if a Shrine to Talos was important for one site, then it might be a good idea to get the blessings of Talos before I searched for a corpse near one of his other shrines. I spent most of the day looking for the Shrine to Talos on the main land, and never did find it. I did find glaciers, with great ravines, blowing snow, and too many wolves and bears. I finally gave up on trying to go overland, and walked the coast, until I was at the northernmost edge. The sea was calm, and there was plenty of ice, so it was an easy trip over to the island. Not that the cold would bother me, but I didn't want my food stores to get soaked. I followed the coast past a tomb. I was certain it held great wealth, but without a patron willing to pay me for my troubles, I wasn't going to risk it.

As I followed the edge of the water, the coast took a turn to the North. Far ahead, I was certain I had seen something moving. It turned out to be another pack of wolves. They had been scavenging some dead skeevers, but thought I might be a better meal. They were wrong, and I added thier pelts to my collection. I could see the statue of Talos ahead, and what looked like a cage next to it. Getting closer I saw several dead skeevers, a lot of blood and a dead Khajiit. I also found a scroll for Calm near the body and for one for Fury in the cage. It didn't take much to figure it out. A cage full of skeevers, cast Fury, one skeever goes nuts and attacks the others, until they are all in a killing frenzy. Cage can't hold them, and a some very angry and partially wounded skeevers boil out of the cage. Khajiit couldn't read the Calm scroll fast enough. Everybody dies of blood loss, and the wolves eventually show up to scavenge. I took the pendant from the Khajiit, Ilas-Tei, and the scrolls, and one of those books about learning magic. I didn't bother reading it either, but I knew the mages would pay well.

I headed into Winterhold itself, and took a room for the night. After buying a round of drinks for everyone, I got some of the locals fired up and talking about life in the Hold, and living with mages next door. The hold had suffered a great loss when part of the town collapsed into the sea, and the people blamed the mages for the towns woes. Most of them didn't like the idea, but the students and teachers of the college, and travellers to the college, were the main income for the town.

The next morning, I set off for the third stop in Winterhold, one of two brothers, at a shrine near the town. Funny thing about maps, they don't show the gashes, crevasses, and impassable areas. I was on top of a ridge, when I spotted see a circular area with a couple standing stones far below me. By the map, it was close, but by walking, it took 2 hours. I found one dead mage, a book titled "Mannimarco, King of Worms," a couple soul gems, some flowers and a bowl of troll fat. I'm guessing the mage tried to summon something, that didn't want to be summoned. I never understood the idea of tossing some flowers, and dead body parts on a pedestal, muttering a few words, and expecting good things to happen. It didn't seem to work for Rundi either. I found his dagger, and head off to find his brother.

I had been to Journeyman's Nook before, and left a dead bandit behind. I recall there was a dead mage there, whom I had looted, but something small like a dagger, I would have left behind. I hoped that dagger were still there. Sure enough, both bodies were still there, preserved by Skyim's deep cold, and the dagger was close by. I remembered this place, because I had found a map to a chest near Valtheim in here. That chest had some good loot in it, and bought me a new suit of armor. I still wear that steel armor, although I had picked up better gauntlets since then. It's not often I got paid for a job, before I even took the job, but I still hoped the Collector had something else in mind.

With the last of the four items, I headed to Markarth, taking the roads and catching a ride with some merchants. It is a quick way to travel, even if it is boring. Guard the merchants from wolves and bandits, get fed, and we all get to our destination alive and well. I sold off my pelts I had collected from the wildlife that tried to hunt me down, and found a buyer for the mage's books, netting a good five hundred septims profit from the trip, and that was after I stocked up on healing potions. I'd done better in some crypts, but there really wasn't that much risk to this job. After a good nights sleep, I headed up the mountain to climb a tower.


	3. Chapter 3 - Reachwind Eyrie

**Chapter 3 – Reachwind Eyrie**

It was a long trip, walking up the side of a mountain, and climbing over the rocks. Once I got there, I realized there was a trail that would have made it much easier, but it was a longer walk. No matter, my way was faster, even if it was harder. I knew I would take the road back down. Just because I am forthright, doesn't mean I am stubborn about it.

The tower itself was an oddity, Dwemer and empty. Really empty. Not a single clanking centurion, Falmer, or jumping spider to be found. I was cautious, but there was only the stairs and a door at the top leading to a small balcony. A fair bit of Dwemer metal was left behind, and one nice looking chest with a good lock on it. It wasn't good enough to keep me from getting a nice looking helmet and a couple of gems out of it though. The empty bottles of wine nearby told me some bandit probably thought he had a nice safe place. He would find out he was wrong if he ever showed up to open the chest again.

Going out the door I found a balcony, and I looked around to enjoy the view. Standing on top of the tower, I could see across much of Skyrim. The stars lit up the world, making it look astonishingly beautiful. That was until I realized something was very wrong. It was mid morning when I entered this tower, and at the latest, it would be full noon, but I was seeing a night sky? I felt odd, because I knew I was right, but I knew I wasn't. It was enough to make my head hurt. I looked around in confusion, and saw him, the Collector, dressed in his black robes with the gold trim, skin drawn and stretched. He looked the same as the last time I saw him, but somehow he looked more alive.

He spoke to me, his voice sounded clearer and distinct, "_I know it was difficult, but I do appreciate your efforts. If you would, just leave the items on the floor here. I will tend to them later. I do hope you looked about when you were in Journeyman's' Nook. Several bandits have fought and died over a small bit of paper, but I am certain you would know how to retrieve the treasure the map points to. The joyous part of living, is not knowing what you will find, until it is too late._"

For a moment, I felt disappointed. I had already been paid for this first job, and I didn't even know it at the time. I did gain quite a bit of incidental treasure, so the job wasn't a total failure. As I was thinking about this, the collector had gone silent, and was looking off into the distance. Just for an instance, I saw a large room behind him, but it was gone before I could be certain of what I saw.

Turning back to me, he began his lecture, "_As you have seen, life faces many hazards. Some you can control, like learning how to cast a spell, or when to take cover from an archer. Others are out of your hands, like attacks by beasts or the damage caused by a storm. It was a storm that separated a father and his son ages ago. All of them were strong Nords, and skilled warriors. They were part of a large fleet of vessels carrying hundreds of warriors to war. A foul storm came up and the ships in the fleet struggled for days just to stay afloat, even as they drifted apart from the others vessels. After several days, some of the ships finally came to shore, while only pieces of others finished the trip. A father was devastated to see his eldest son was among the lost, and convinced he was still alive the father took out a ship by himself to rescue his son. Everyone thought the two of them were lost to the seas forever, but days later the father returned with his son's corpse. A barrow was dug, and he was buried in the new land, protected by traps, obscure puzzles, and a dozen companions. Later the father built his house so that he could forever see his son's burial site._"

The old Altmer looked at me with a smile, "_I'm certain that a few traps and an ingenious puzzle will not stop you. You have already proven your resourcefulness. You will need to speak with the shopkeeper in Winterhold as she holds the key you need. She doesn't even understand what she holds. After many centuries, all that remains in the barrow is the mere remnant of a shade of the eldest son of a famous father. There is also a helm, not a crown, but a simple helm. I ask of you to seek out that helm and bring it to me here. There are bound to be some other treasures to be found, as well as the remains of other seekers who have failed. If that is not enough to whet you appetite, I will tell you of a lost treasure you can seek, for something I am not interested, in once you returned._"

He began to fade out, but his last words still made it to my ear. "_The father was Ysgramor. Seek out the house he built, and across the river you will find the barrow of Yngol._"

As he faded from view, and his last words drifted away on the wind, my vision clouded again. The second time it is different. I felt a warmth, yet the air was filled with frost and the world was tinted blue. Images appeared and faded, drifting into view, then replaced a moment later with another image. First it was a corpse laying on a stone floor, and faceless figure stood over it, dressed in rich dark robes, then fading out even as a slight smile could be seen on his face. Then there was a contract with the name Maluril Ferano on it, signed in blood. Next, was a living Dunmer, his back turned to me, deep inside a Dwemer structure, sitting at a desk. As the frost melted away and the unnatural warmth left me, I knew I had been warned. But a Dwemer tomb? I was going to a Nordic tomb. What could this vision mean, and who was Maluril Ferano?

I was puzzled for a moment, but the light of the afternoon sun dispel any lingering fear from the visions. The Collector had not seemed to know that I had already found the map, and collected the treasure. Maybe all he could see was what the dead see, and a living Nord grabbing a map was out of his view. One thing was certain, I wasn't going to let the pile of Dwemer scrap metal sit here in this tower for another to loot. I filled my pack, and headed back to Markarth, I ended up with quite a nice haul of meltable Dwemer metals from that tower, and it sold well in Markarth. I have never really liked that city, and spend as little time in it as possible. To me, it seems like a dead city, where men and mer just pretend to live there. I've been in a lot of tombs, where the dead protect the tomb, but Markarth itself is dead. I don't know how they sleep at nights. As soon as I could rouse Kibell, I took his carriage to back to Winterhold, and spent the trip thinking about Windhelm and the son of dead king.


	4. Chapter 4 - Yngol's Tomb

**Chapter 4 – Yngol's Tomb**

Yngol's Barrow was just up the river from the last farm outside of Windhelm, and I was a little disappointed. Travellers could pass by this place and only see a jumble of rocks. On one side, there was the barest hint of a trail, but mostly from animals who sheltered in the corner of rocks. There was a crude table in front, and a few piles of stacked rocks, but the whole area looked unfinished and incomplete. I wondered if there was anything inside at all. I turned and looked across the river at the city Ysgramor had build, and wondered why his son had such a dismal tomb.

Inside, it wasn't very impressive either. I found several small, crowded chambers, and narrow halls holding very few burial spots. I doubt if this tomb could hold more than a score of corpses. There were a few stone coffins stacked up in a pile, as if awaiting proper placement. Some were left leaning against the walls, just the way the workers left them after transportation. A few decorative statues were placed in the hall ways, but they were badly set up, and nearly all of them had fallen over or shifted and were leaning at odd angles.

There were no guardians either. The skeletons and embalmed bodies were there, but no one faced me with a bow, or an ancient weapon. Instead, there were tiny globes of blue light, one at first, but as I went through the tomb others came out. Every time I came near a coffin or a stack of embalmed bodies, a few more globes would come out. They did not attack, just floated a few feet above the floor, usually in front of me. They seemed to be leading me onward, bouncing along as if they were happy to see someone alive. Instead of comforting me, I was more worried. I was certain they were leading me into a trap, but each time I would hesitate, they would come back to me, and watch, floating in the air, waiting for me. If they were guardians, I expected them to keep me out, or run ahead and warn others, but they didn't. They were escorting me, trying to help, or perhaps asking for my help.

We came to a room with a closed gate and a recently deceased man laying face down on the floor near a lever. My companions floated through the gate to the far side of the gate, waiting for me to join them, or perhaps they were staying out of my way. I had seen these sorts of traps before; a closed gate, a lever, and a few rotating pillars. I knew the dead man had not solved the puzzle correctly, and had been killed by darts, poisoned arrow, or flames. On the floor near him was a book, with an odd riddle in it.

_Whale in the sea, so should he be_

_Eagle in Sun's Sky, so should he be _

_Snake in the weed so should he be_

I looked up and saw three pillars and a throne, each one placed in a small alcove. In better days, there would have been a spirited guardian sitting in the throne, waiting to protect the gate, but this trap was never finished. One alcove had a leak, and water flowed down the wall and into cracks in the floor. Another one had a larger crack, large enough to let in the sun. The fourth alcove was in a sorry state, a few weeds growing in the soil and debris at the base. As crude as the puzzle was, it did take me a moment to see it was actually a brilliant plan. I set up the three pillars the way they should be, and pulled the lever. Yet another blue orb joined my party and we walked to the end of a hall. Even if it was unfinished, the ancient builders had made certain the lethalness of the trap worked, and I resolved to see if I could pass word on to the family of the unlucky delver who carried the book.

The hall beyond the gate was was decorated with images carved into panels on each side of the passage way, and a dragon claw door at the end. I have never understood the panels what the panels meant, but each one seemed to show a person, priest, or king, surrounded by odd beasts or strong warriors. This was perhaps the only part of the tomb that seemed finished. The carvings were complete, and the arches and doorway were firmly in place. There was no excess debris or loose stone. At the end of the hall was the circular door, with three holes in the center. I had heard of halls like this from a few stories, and knew the trick to making the door work, as long as I had the right key. I hoped the claw I bought from Birna was the right one, or this was going to be the end of my journey. Using the clues on the key itself, I turned the stone arcs to the right place, and inserting the key, I managed to open the door, and the horde of bouncing blue globes rushed ahead of me.

Beyond the opening, was a short tunnel leading to a large, well lit chamber, and the bouncing blue orbs all rushed in to surround a large chest and a throne facing away from me. I didn't have time to worry about the chest though, because the skeleton on the throne was not a happy blue orb, but a very powerful looking shade who was not happy to see me. This was the only real fight in this tomb, and it seemed as if all of the fights I missed, were all added into this one massive battle. I was pressed hard for a long time, just trying to keep ahead of him, and hold my ground. We had fought for some time, before I was able to press an attack of my own, and force him back. He was not an easy kill, and I was within an inch of not surviving the battle, but with one final rush, I drove my blade deep into him, and he collapsed into a pile of ash.

I look around, but I didn't see any of the blue orbs. I suppose I had released all of them when I killed the shade. In a way, I felt sad that my companions were not there at the end. If they were the spirits of the warriors who guarded Yngol, then I hoped they were now released from their vows and had moved on to Sovengarde. All that remained was for me to take the helm, clear out the chest, and find the way out. The throne the skeleton had sat on for many centuries faced a door, which eventually lead straight to the outside, almost as if Yngol was spending an eternity looking out over the seas that had killed him.

As I think back on it now, I may understand why that barrow was never finished. Ysgramor had come to fight a war, and he didn't have time to dig a proper burial site. What few coffins could be found were put in there, a dozen companions to watch over his son, and a few bits of statues to guide him to Sovengarde. I think Ysgramor would have come back, but fighting a war against the elves, building a city, and leading his people took time away from him. The spirits and Yngol were tired and wanted true rest, but were bound to the barrow. It was almost as if Arkay himself was helping me, and it made me wonder, if the blue orbs in the tomb and the blue mist of my visions was related. I was tired, and didn't feel like working it all out in my mind though. I had found the helm, and it was time for me to make a trip to a tower.


	5. Chapter 5 - A Queen Awaits

**Chapter 5 – A Queen Awaits**

It didn't take long to reach the mountain top since I knew the way, and actually used the trail. At the base of the tower in the noontime sun, I paused a moment to breath in the fresh mountain air, which was a sharp contrast to the stale depths of tombs and crypts. I could smell life, hope, and a future. It felt good to remember that not everyone spends their time walking through ancient dungeons, and looting tombs. As I climbed the tower steps, I started to wonder what life was like for the people who built this tower. Did they know what would happen to them someday? What did they hope for? What were their dreams?

I climbed the steps, pulling the Helm of Yngol out of my pack. I brushed off some dirt, polished it up a little, and set it on the floor. For a moment, I considered keeping it, thinking of some of the stories I heard that said it was magical in some way. But for all of the foul and disgusting things I have done in my life, I have never been the one to betrayed a deal first. I'd wait and see what the Collector had to say, what his rewards were and what he had in mind for the next assignment.

Suddenly a familiar blue glow lit the area, and the air became warm. The glow, the warmth and the feeling of warning was stronger than it was before. There was a city of stone, cold and dark. In the shadows, I could see blood on worked stones, and hear the screams of a woman. Over and over, women would scream and blood would be splattered on the stones of the street, the walls of buildings or on doors. Then I saw a normal looking house. The house was normal, but the interior was not. There were hordes of things on display, not being stored for use, but carefully set on shelfs, tables and desk. A soup spoon, a flute, and carefully preserved ancient embalming tools were clearly seen. A shadowy male figure wearing dark robes walked among the cabinets, until he came to a book shelf. Four books rested on a shelf by themselves, and as the dark figure reached out, they become women, beautiful young women, and so very dead. As the warm, blue mist faded, I could see another man now, tending a bar in a dark room, a room surrounded by water. I shook my head, drew a deep breath, and tried to calm my breathing. To this day, the sounds of those women's screaming still echo in my mind.

_"Greetings my friend. I trust you trip to Windhelm was profitable?"_ said a voice.

I turned and saw him then, almost as solid as a living being, the Altmer I had come to call the Collector. He stood tall and regal, without a sign of the earlier limp. The black robes shimmered in the light of the stars, some of the finest fabric I have ever seen. The embroidery seemed to take on a life of it's own, growing and twining itself across the robe. I was not certain if he was a continuation of the last vision, or another vision. It was hard to think clearly, so I forced my gaze from his robes, and looked to the hard stone of the tower. Wordlessly, I gestured to the helm sitting on the floor. Stone, from a Dwemer tower, ancient, dead and cold. That I understood. Cold, hard stone. After a moment my breathing calmed. I looked up to see the Collector had picked up the helm and was admiring it.

Still looking at the helm, he started speaking, "_Do you ever consider which is more important, the helm or the head on which it rests? So many fighters will tell you the head is more important, life itself is essential, but they are wrong. You will die easily without the helm, and can accomplish nothing. You need them both, and that is why I depend on you._"

With those words, he turned to face me, and said "_This helm protected a head that had lost it's way, a spirit that was trapped in the mortal world until you freed him and his companions. I have the helm, no __longer important to anyone, and the spirit is now in Sovengarde. And I have need of you again. I need you to release another spirit, and see that the bones are put where they belong._"

His words took on an almost evangelical tone then, as if he was giving a sermon. As he spoke, his voice rose and fell, his hands making grand gestures with each phrase, the hand with the helm lifted high in the air.

"_She was once a queen, daughter of an emperor, wife to a king, aunt to an empress, mother to another emperor, and sister to two more emperors. Her touch was felt across the ages, and it is still felt today. There are some who would bring her back and bind her to their will. They are fools, but will not find that out until it is too late._" he intoned.

He paused for a moment as if concentrating on something unseen, dropping his hands, his voice unsure, "_Or perhaps they already have, it is hard to tell at times. Being dead, I sometimes mix the future and the past._"

He smiled down at me then and regained his composer, at ease again with the world and confidant in his every word. His words now were were simple, quick and to the point, "_In any event, you need to find her bones, and give them to Styrr, a priest of Arkay in Solitude. From there, matters will progress as needed._"

As he finished speaking, I realized he was waiting for my response, and I was not certain what was really going on. Spirits trapped, one had been freed but who was the other. A queen? How many queens have there been? Which one does he mean this time? I thought over his words, trying to draw meaning, and just as I was about to ask him who the women was, he spoke up, his words curt and short.

He said, "_I see you are still confused. Let me explain. Travel to Solitude and have a chat with a Nord warrior named Falk Firebeard, Steward to the High King, or some such title. He will have a some unfinished business he needs you to deal with. One thing will follow another, and in the end, Styrr gets the bones. Simple._"

Then he smiled at me, a kindly, benevolent smile, that somehow seemed cold and manipulative. I felt as if I had failed him somehow, and failure was not a good thing for my survival. I wanted to ask another question, about Solitude, queens, and my reward, but I couldn't form the words before his figure faded out, and was replaced with another cloudy vista. This time I saw a small shack, on the eastern bank of a river. South west of the shack, there was a lumber mill. In the distance, to the north east, I could see the towers of Windhelm. A chest in the shack glimmered at me, and even without looking, I knew the chest would lead to a treasure.

Solitude? That was the place to start. Find the Steward and ask him something. How do you ask a Steward about the bones of a dead queen without getting hauled off to jail? The morning sun was just rising, and I decided to take a meal break. Had I been in this tower for hours, or days? I could not tell.


	6. Chapter 6 - A Queen is Found

**Chapter 6 – A Queen is Found**

I eventually made it to Solitude, though it was not an easy trip this time. The life of an adventurer for hire kept me busy at times, and the month after meeting the Collector, was one of those times. There was a bandit gang terrorizing a village, and a wandering vampire group attacking travellers, problems that farmers and normal merchants are not prepared to deal with. I may sound apathetic about these things, but I dealt with them every day. A farmer only needs to worry about his farm, but I had an entire realm to worry about. It gives a person a different outlook on life.

Oddly enough, it had only been since that first dream from the Collector, that I had begun to question my position in the world, and why I was different than the farmers and merchants that I helped. Why would an undead Mer want me to help him? Who was behind the warnings I had been given. What did they all mean? Why was it all happening to me? It didn't make sense. But then again, it didn't make sense that I had warnings about Dwemer ruins when I was going into Nordic crypts.

When I finally arrived in Solitude, I went directly to the Blue Palace, and told the guards I needed to speak with Falk Firebeard. Since he was involved with the court, I was directed to wait until Jarl Islef was done for the day. It was interesting to see what sort of issues the normal people would bring to the attention of a Jarl. I had come in while a farmer was asking for help, and his story sounded all too familiar. Traffic late at night scaring the cattle, travellers attacked and killed, and outlying farms being looted. But this time there was a twist, the problem included roaming undead, along with unusual lights, and strange chants coming from a cavern entrance. The Jarl seemed to recognize the problem, and ordered an entire legion to be sent to the area to deal with the problem. Naturally such a reasonable response was not accepted by other people in the court, and in the end, only a few men were sent out. I could almost feel my hands clench, because I knew those soldiers, the farmers, and travellers were all doomed if there was a coven of necromancers in the area.

As court ended, I spoke with Falk and offered to take a look at the cave. I explained I was skilled in this sort of business, and I could solve the Jarl's problem, without any more legion men getting killed. It wasn't what I was sent to do, but it seemed to make sense to give the steward a reason to trust me. Especially when I was going to ask him about an ancient queen's last resting place. Besides, I could not continue a task for an undead collector while the living were suffering in front of me. That was why I had taken so long to get to Solitude in the first place.

Falk told me about Wolfskull cave, an ominous sounding name, which was just off the road and back behind some trees. I followed the road past Meride's temple and found the cave entrance easily. Starting with a few skeletons, then then a few draugr, it became steady harder to proceed. There was definitely something going on inside the cavern, and when I finally reached a huge chamber, I saw what it was. There was a tower built in the middle, and a lot of magic centred on that tower. It was so thick, even I could see it, great ribbons of blue light, writhing in open space, crackling like thunder and all flowing to the top of the tower. I knew this was not a good thing, even if the skeletons and draugr hadn't convince me of that already.

As I made my way closer to the tower, picking off undead guardians, I began to hear chants coming from the top of the tower.

_"Wolf Queen. Hear our call and awaken. We summon Potema!"_  
_"We summon Potema!"_  
_"Long have you slept the dreamless sleep of death, Potema. No longer. Hear us Wolf Queen! We Summon You!"_  
_"We summon Potema!"_

I stopped and listened carefully, just to be certain. There were summoning Potema the Wolf Queen! I may not be as educated as a mage or scholars, but even I had heard of Potema. One of the most evil and powerful necromancers ever to have lived. Stories tell that even her chambermaids were conjured undead, and she command legions of Daedra as if she were a Daedric Lord herself. I knew I had to get to the top of the tower and interrupt the summoning.

Just as I reached the stairs leading to the roof, the chanting changed, and another voice was added to the mix.

_"Yes! Yes! Return me to this realm!"_  
_"As our voices summon you the blood of the innocent binds you Wolf Queen!"_  
_"Summoned with words. Bound by blood."_  
_"What! What are you doing?! You fools! You cannot bind me to your wills!"_  
_"Summoned with words. Bound by blood."_  
_"You ants don't have the power to bind me!"_

This was getting worse and worse. Not only were they summoning an undead, evil sorcerer, she was not pleased at all. As I reached the top of the tower, the necromancers noticed me, and four of them turned to attack. They were no more successful than the others I had faced on the way up to the roof of the tower. Magic takes it's toll on me, but mages are easy to kill, once I get close enough to them. Even the best of necromancers can't defend themselves from a honed-ebony blade. Actually, I had it easy, if it moved I kill it. Simple. When the last one fell, the blue light disappeared, and the feeling of raw power in the air vanished. I turned to look at the dais at the center of the tower, dreading the site of an angry, undead, necromancer queen. But there was nothing there. I had interrupted the ritual in time, and it had not been completed. Potema had resisted the summons, while I was killing the summoners, or so I thought.

I left the tower and the cave, feeling a great deal more relaxed. I was still feeling the effects of the numerous battles reaching the tower and the final battle on the roof, but I felt good about the ending. Actually, I felt quite proud of myself at the time. I had saved the world from a mad queen, the embodiment of evil herself. I reported back to the steward, and told him the cavern had been cleared out, and shouldn't bother the people in the area. When he asked what had happened, I explained about the sorcerers, the ritual and Potema. He was shocked to hear about it, and told me I had done a great thing by stopping the summons. I told him I didn't understand what all of the fuss was. Yes, she was a necromancer, but she was still dead. I'll never forget his next words.

"_She was known as the Wolf Queen of Solitude, Daughter of the Emperor Pelagius Septim II, Wife of King Mantiarco, Aunt of the Empress Kintyra II, Mother of Emperor Uriel III, and Sister of the Emperors Antiochus and Cephorus. She overthrew her own niece so that her son could become Emperor. It took ten years, and a month-long siege at her castle, before Potema was defeated._"

Falk's words echoed the Collector's, and it hit me like a war hammer. Queen, daughter, sister emperors and empresses. The Collector wanted me to find the bones of Potema! I barely heard the rest of Falk's words, as he pressed a large bag of gold into my hands. The guards escorted me out of the palace, and I headed straight to the inn. From feeling great about defeating a coven of necromancers, to knowing I would be facing one of the greatest evils of history was going to take some time. Heros in the stories are always so stoic, and just get on with saving the world. I keep telling people, I am just a mercenary, and that night, I got as drunk as any mercenary ever does.

I managed to stay drunk for two whole days. The headaches and blurred vision had a very well known causes, and not from any blue-misted visions. I woke up on the morning of the third day, and stumbled down to the first floor for breakfast. I was proud that I only tripped a few times. The innkeeper knew what I needed, and before long I had a plate full of eggs, a venison steak, some cheese, and fresh bread, all washed down with some herbal tea from the apothecary. I was just finishing up the eggs, when I saw a courier enter the inn, and head directly to the inn keeper. A moment later, the inn keeper pointed in my direction, and I knew the courier had something for me. I didn't owe anyone any money, and I had not told anyone I was looking for work, so I couldn't guess why there would be a message for me.

The letter was from Falk Firebeard, Steward to the Jarl, and the man who told me I was dealing with the most notorious necromancer in history.

"_Over the last few days we've had some disturbing information come to light regarding the events at Wolfskull Cave and the summoning and binding ritual you interrupted there._

_Given your involvement with that event I'm asking you to return to Solitude to help us once more. I'm wary of putting all the details in print, please come see me at the Blue Palace."_

There was no avoiding this business. I had 'interrupted' a ritual, and I had a horrible feeling that Potema had taken notice of me. Maybe the Collector knew this was going to happen, and giving the bones to a priest of Arkay was the only solution. Since I did not like the idea of becoming one of her pet draugr, there was only one thing I could do. I ordered a second breakfast.

Later that day, I talked to Falk, and he told me that the Queen's shade had taken up residence in her old home, a now abandoned portion of the Solitude underground. Styrr, the priest of Arkay in Solitude, gave me a key to get into the area. Once through the gate, it was a fairly standard deserted ruin. Draugr, skeletons, vampires and a locked gate. There was no key, but as I approached the gate, there was a voice.

"_You've arrived at last. The hero who prevented me from being bound returns to my fold. I have much to thank you for, little one. When you die I will raise you and you can take your place by my side."_

As her words faded, the locked gate opened itself, and I knew this was my last chance. I could turn back, and take a long trip to Valenwood or Elsweyr, or any place that did not have an ancient necromantic queen trying to posses me. True be told, it wasn't a case of honor to fulfill my promises to the Collector and Falk, but more a case of stubbornness that kept me from leaving. I didn't like the idea that this ancient queen was so sure of herself, that a common Nord would just forget all of the atrocities she had committed and worship her.

After that one case of her voice unlocking the gate, there were no further uncanny activities. I killed a lot of undead, hoping they would never to rise again, and I found a few useful potions along the way. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, so I was not looking for other loot. I will admit, Queen Potema had chosen her resting place well. Some very creative gates to thwart thieves, an assortment of lethal traps, and plenty of mindless guards. I lost track of how many of the walking dead I killed, how many times the vampires attacked, and how many potions I drank. There comes a point, when I lose all track of time in a battle, and there is only killing, advance, and more killing. The only change to the routine that day was a lone vampire who spoke up.

"_You've come far, mortal. No doubt you seek to enter Potema's Sanctum. I can see to that. We'll need plenty of fresh corpses to rebuild her army, you see_."

After I was done with her and her skeletal minions, she was going to need more corpses to make up for the ones I had killed in that chamber.

"_Not much further. Come, little thing. Serve me in death."_

It was so nice of the Queen to welcome me, and open gates. She thought I was eager to join her, and I was working hard at proving my place at her side. I finally came to a set of double doors, and knew it was going to be the final confrontation. She was expecting me, a simple mercenary against an undead sorcerer. I emptied several potion bottles, not knowing if they would work, but feeling better that I was prepared for almost anything.

"_You've come far, mortal, but can you stand against my inner council? Let's see!"_

I braced myself, and set to work. One foul draugr at a time, swing and kill. One falls, and I turn to meet the next one. I normally fight with a weapon in one hand, and a shield in the other, but for crowds like that, it was easier to work with a two-handed weapon.

"_Don't applaud yourself too soon, worm!"_

I ignored her words, and kept on my fighting. I was half way around the room by now, and there was a pile of dead behind me.

"_Rip the eyes from his head!"_

If her minions heard her orders, it didn't matter. I kept swinging and they kept falling. Sometimes, I would be hit by bolts of energy, but at least some of the potions I swigged earlier were helping me. There seemed no end to the draugr, and I finally realized why. She was reanimating the ones I had already killed. After another round of attacks, I could feel some of the potions were fading out. There wasn't much time left for me, so I pushed harder, killing, moving and killing. She could animate them, but each time, she was a little weaker. I didn't stop to think about which one of us would tire first, I just kept swinging my blade.

Suddenly, she changed her tactic, fleeing to a door on the far side of the room, and I chased after her. I should have known there would be a trick, but the fire of battle was strong and I was not as cautious as I should have been. What followed was a long battle, every bit as fierce as the last one, except this time, I could focus on Potema's spirit form directly. By pushing her back, and keeping up a furious attack, she was not able to animate the dead as fast as she could before, so I was not as distracted. I don't know how many times I killed her, and watched her fall to the ground, before she rose and attacked again, but each time, it gave me a chance to swallow a few potions. Even with the draughts, and my stubbornness, I knew the battle could not last much longer. One finally lunge, swinging my bladed overhead, and slamming it down through her ghostly form, and I fell to my knees. If she returned again, I was doomed. I had given this battle everything I had within me, more that I ever thought possible.

It was silent, the only sound I heard was my labored breathing. I was almost certain it was the silence of the dead, and I had lost. My breathing calmed, and I began to feel better, and I finally realized it was over. I forced myself to stand, and look around. The huge chamber behind me, and the smaller throne room were filled with unmoving corpses, and on the throne itself, was a skull. A diadem of gold and precious gems was fused to the bones, the strong magic in it melding to her very skull. There was nothing else of Potema left in the mortal realm. I still wasn't certain if her spirit was destroyed or just waiting for another chance to corrupt a living champion.

There was a chest nearby, and I looted it without even thinking. Years as a mercenary had instilled a few habits that took over so I didn't have to think about it. The trip back to Solitude was a blur, and I don't remember a bit of it. I found Styrr in the hall of Arkay, and gave him the skull. He promised me he would take care of things, and told me to report to Falk at the Palace. I was so tired, I just nodded to him and turned for the door. I thought I heard a scuffle behind me, but this was Solitude, in a sanctified Temple, so if there was trouble, it would be minor and they could take care of it themselves.

The Steward was pleased that I had solved the problem, but told me that no one could know what happened. The Jarl didn't want to scare her people, so it was best if no one ever mentioned what I had been up to. The only reason I speak of it now, is because no one outside of the Psiijic Order would believe me anyway. I took the bag of gold, and a nice looking shield from Falk, and headed to the inn for a rest. I needed a few days of sleep before I would feel like making the trip to the Tower and reporting to the Collector.


	7. Chapter 7 - Spheres and Cubes

**Chapter 7 – Spheres and Cubes**

I looked around trying to guess which would happen first, the collector appearing or the blue warning-fog. Even as I considered the thought, I felt a warm wind, and the world around me dimmed, and yet it was also bright. The bluish fog was stronger than before, and hid everything around me. As it swirled, it begins to condense and form figures. First a darkened figure in black robes with gold trim, who walked around the edges, always in the shadows. In the center, was a well lit area, and a tall male magic-user standing between an enchanting table and an alchemical table. In the distance, across a small chasm, I could see the staircase and entrance to a grand looking Dwemer building. On either side of the staircase was a great pillar with a centurion on top. I could hear only one side of a conversion between the mage and someone unseen.

"_I know you think it is odd, but I assure you, if the Dwemer had such a beast, I would have known about it._"

"_Of course it is possible, but I don't have the time to look into this right now_."

"_But you have to remember, they were not successful in the long run with either of those._"

As he spoke the last sentence, my eye was drawn to a book on a table near the mage. The book became very clear, taking up my full vision. I caught a glimpse of a shadowy hand reaching toward the book, but it pulled back quickly as if burned. Then just as quickly as it began, the blue fog was gone. I was not even certain what I had seen, but I was very certain, it is another warning.

I looked up, and noticed a shadow where there had been none before. For a moment, I wondered if the warnings were going come true right then. It was the Collector, who stood before me, almost as solid as a real person. I almost thought I could can hear his breathing, but I knew that wasn't possible.

"_Greetings my intrepid partner. It is a pleasure working with such a dedicated person. Your work in retrieving Potema's skull had to have been difficult, but you did it, as I knew you would_" he spoke with a smile and he almost seems to dip his head as a bow to me.

I felt deeply honoured that he had taken such notice of me. He started to stroll around the area, and his walk almost reminded me of the shadowy figure in the three visions, but the strength of his voice pushed away my thoughts.

"_My next task will take a little bit of time, but I am certain you will prevail. This time, I am asking you to return an item. It was stolen by ignorant thieves, who understood nothing of what they took. The saw it only as a treasure to sell to the highest bidder. But you will return this item to it's rightful place_." he told me.

I nodded to him wordlessly, ready to hear my next mission.

"Y_ou will find the only surviving thief, an Argonian who has lost her mind. She will likely be near other __Argonians or some large body of water. It is not skooma that taints her mind, but something far worse, her own memories. Talk to her, and once you get past her babbling, you will find she has something that is not hers. Take it from her, and return it to the Dwemer._", he explained.

I bowed my head to the Collector in silent acknowledgment of my orders. Some how the whole situation didn't feel right, but I wasn't certain why.

"_One other matter, my friend_".

I look up at him as he faced me, and his charming smile puts me at ease as he spoke. "Y_ou will find the dwarves have many unusual items. If you should come across a globe or two, I would certainly appreciate you bringing any of them you find back to me. They are not valuable really, but I do admire the appearance of these globes. You will know them easily, a ball of dwemer metal, with a red mist coming out of them. Of course, you will also find a great deal of metal that your smiths tend to pay highly for. Should you wish another type of treasure, find the squalid cave that is called Redoran. It is known to have contain a map at one time, assuming the fools didn't burn it._"

I felt better, the Collector wanted something to collect, so all was right with the world. I shook off my doubts, and looked to my map to decide on my next move. I barely noticed the Collector stepping into the shadows until he all but disappeared, his eyes still watching me.


End file.
